Anan's little one

One has a reputation that makes entire rooms rearrange themselves around him. The other arrives quietly like a word slipped between louder ones and stays.

Nobody sees what's underneath the fear the first one commands.
Nobody knows the weight the second one carries.

What begins as one unexpected night in a city that doesn't know their names together becomes something neither of them planned hidden corners, secret hours, stolen moments that taste better than anything open ever could.

Two people. Two worlds. Both keeping the most important parts of themselves in rooms with no visitors.
Until they let each other in.

A story about the version of yourself the world sees and the one you save for only one person. About power that doesn't need to announce itself. About falling so quietly and so completely that you don't notice it happening until you're already there.

About what it means when home stops being a place.
And starts being a person.

🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕